


You'll Know It's Him

by PhiraLovesLoki



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Temporary Amnesia, Underworld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5805853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiraLovesLoki/pseuds/PhiraLovesLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hades agrees to let Emma bring the man she loves back to life, under one condition: she has to find him first. With altered memories and three men to choose from, it's easier said than done.</p><p>(Completely canon divergent from 5B: not based on spoilers, and not a spec fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll Know It's Him

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this to Tumblr, thinking, "I just need to get this out of my system, maybe someone will enjoy it," and it kind of exploded? So I figured I'd post it here, too.
> 
> This is entirely canon divergent, ignoring even the promo that aired after 5x11. It's spoiler- and speculation-free for 5B because I am also spoiler- and speculation-free for 5B.

This was both unbelievable _and_ unbelievably confusing.

She was in hell. _Literal_ hell, not just, “Ugh, I’m in hell right now” hell. Real, actual hell, where people went when they died. But _why_ she was in hell was even more confusing than the fact that she was there in the first place.

Emma replayed the video on her phone. It was unnerving seeing her own face, tears streaming down it, and hearing her own voice, pleading for her to just _believe_.

Believe that she, Emma Swan, had chosen to travel to hell itself to find the man she loved and bring him back to life.

She still had a headache from whatever Hades had done to her. She’d sort of come back to her senses, standing in front of him, and he’d explained that he’d “adjusted” her memories. It was a challenge, he’d said, so she could prove herself. He’d found it extremely amusing when she’d angrily demanded to know why she had to prove anything to him in the first place, and then he’d given her the rules and disappeared.

“You came here to find the man you love,” he’d explained, as though that weren’t totally ridiculous. “I’m putting that love to the test. I count three men who mean something to you—three men whose deaths have marked you, and three men whose symbols you wear on your person. If you can determine which of these three men is the man you truly love, whom you were willing to give up your own life for, I will let him return with you to the world of the living. Provided, of course, that you are still willing to bind yourself to him for the rest of your life.”

“You’re shitting me,” had been her eloquent reply.

The god of the underworld had seemed amused, not offended. “From here, you can go west, east, or north; there’s one man in each direction. Their memories have been altered the same way yours have. You have as long as you’d like to decide which one is your true love, but you cannot leave until you decide.”

“So what do I do?” she’d asked. “Drag the lucky winner back here to show you?”

He’d chuckled. “A simple kiss will do. But I will warn you: if you are wrong, and you kiss the wrong man, you will go home with nothing except the burden of knowing your heart was unable to recognize its mate.”

“Great,” she’d muttered. “Soulmates? Really?”

“There is no consolation prize,” he’d continued. “If you can find him, he may return with you. Otherwise, you return alone, and he remains.”

“Whatever.” And with that, the god had disappeared, and she was left with nothing except three paths in different directions, her phone clutched in her left hand, and a pounding headache.

Her memories were a jumble. She could remember some things just fine, like going to Neverland to save Henry, or the fact that she’d been the Dark One. But so much was missing, including the feeling she assumed she’d have if she’d met her soulmate and fallen in love with him.

It was then that she realized she’d been clutching her phone for a reason, and then she’d found the video of herself she’d recorded.

“Hades isn’t fucking with you,” her recorded self said. “It’s all true. You _have_ to find him. There’s some stupid spell that’ll erase this if I say anything that’ll clue you in to who he is. But you _have_ to find him. You’ll know it’s him. You’ve _got_ to.”

There had been more, but it had hurt so much to hear how upset she’d been. The pain in her voice had been worse than anything she’d felt when Neal had left her with the watches. Had she really fallen in love again after how badly it had turned out the first time?

Apparently.

She absent-mindedly fingered the ring she was wearing on a chain around her neck. Except—where had it come from? She reached up to see if her circlet necklace was still there, or if she’d swapped out her jewelry entirely. It was … but so was the swan necklace. But hadn’t she returned it to Neal back in New York? She did remember doing that. And what was this on her wrist? Some kind of … shoelace? Why was she wearing a shoelace?

She gave up; it wasn’t like Hades was going to pop back in and give her any answers. He’d said there was a guy in each direction, so she picked one and started walking.

It might have been minutes, or it might have been hours, but she finally saw a figure standing on what looked like the edge of a forest. It was … “Graham?”

“Emma?” It _was_ Graham; he came rushing towards her, and within seconds, he was embracing her tightly. “Emma, this is awful—what happened?”

“Um, I’m not dead.” It was a weird thing to have to say. But Graham! He was dead? “Graham, what happened to _you?”_

He pulled back and shook his head as he continued to stare at her. “I don’t remember,” he admitted. “I know I died, but the circumstances … I’ve no recollection.”

“What _do_ you remember?”

“I remember you finding out about me and Regina,” he said, blushing sheepishly. “You were pretty angry with me. But everything after that is a … well, it’s a complete blur.”

“Yeah, same here.” Her memory was sharp up through that point; she remembered apprehending him outside of Regina’s that night, and the anger and disappointment she’d felt when she’d realized one of the few people she could count on was sleeping with the person she’d considered her nemesis.

“If you’re not dead, Emma, why are you here—well, _how_ are you here?”

“It’s … complicated.” She stared at her feet, feeling a little silly. _Oh, nothing much, just here to apparently find this guy I like and bring him back to life, anyway._ As she did so, she noticed his boots. “Your bootlaces,” she said stupidly.

“It’s complicated because of my bootlaces?” he asked skeptically.

“No, I just—I think I’m wearing one of them.” She held up her wrist. Yep—it was the same bootlace.

“To remember me?” he asked, his voice sad but hopefully.

She nodded, not because she’d suddenly regained her memories of Graham or his death, but because that was what she knew she would have done.

She wondered if it something that her memories of Graham barely extended through her first few weeks in Storybrooke. Her memories obviously couldn’t be trusted too much; he could have been by her side the entire time in Neverland, in Storybrooke, in Camelot, and there would still be a gap in her memory where he should have been standing.

But the bootlace around her wrist … that was a weird thing to do. She _did_ know that if this was all true, then the man she loved had _just_ died and she’d immediately come to this place to find him. Why would she have pulled a lace out of Graham’s boot and wrapped it around her wrist if she was coming to get him?

“Yeah,” she finally said. “To remember you. I miss you, Graham.”

He smiled. “I miss you, too, Emma. So why are you here?”

“I’m looking for someone,” she said, opting to leave out the explanation. “But I’m still glad I ran into you.”

“Me, too. And I’m glad you’re not really dead.”

She smiled; she _knew_ she missed him—she could feel that was true. Hades said she had as long as she needed, though; she might as well see about these other two guys. She didn’t have to decide yes or no about Graham just yet. She hugged him one more time before heading back in the direction she’d come from.

* * *

 

Emma kept going straight after she got back to the space she’d been in when she’d talked to Hades. Again, it might have been minutes or hours (or days)—it was impossible to tell—but soon, there was a city skyline in the distance. This _was_ the land of the dead and all, so at first she assumed it was just some sort of city of the dead. But as she got closer, she recognized the skyline as Manhattan. And standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking that skyline, was Neal.

Her heart sank. She should have known it would be Neal. Her memories of him involved finding him in New York, angrily returning the swan necklace, and then begrudgingly traveling back to Storybrooke with him so they could save his dad and he could get to know Henry.

“Oh, no. Emma, no.” He looked genuinely distressed.

“I’m not dead,” she said immediately. He made like he was going to hug her, and then thought better of it. “It’s … complicated why I’m here.”

“You’re not dead?” he asked. “I think I definitely am. I don’t remember how, though, which is both comforting and disturbing.” He grinned as though that were reassuring.

“What do you remember?”

He shrugged. “I remember coming back with you and Henry to Storybrooke and stopping Cora. And then Tamara was on her way.”

“That’s all I remember, too.”

He frowned. “Wait, I just assumed I didn’t remember anything after that because then I died. But you seem to think other stuff happened.”

“Other stuff _did_ happen,” she said, shrugging. “Peter Pan kidnapped Henry and took him to Neverland. I, uh … “ _I became the Dark One_ seemed like a story he didn’t need to hear right now. “I just know other stuff has happened, but I don’t remember if you were there or not.”

“Weird. I wonder why.”

She sighed, but she _had_ to tell him something. “Hades is testing me,” she said. “Apparently I came here trying to bring someone back to life, so he took away a bunch of my memories and he’s making me try to figure out who.”

“That’s … wait, so if I’m missing my memories, too, does that mean I’m the person you’re looking for?”

“No, he said there were three people it could be. I already found another one. Graham.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know that name, sorry.” He squinted at her. “Hey, you’re wearing the necklace again.”

“Yeah.” She grabbed it without really thinking about it. “I guess you gave it back to me.”

“Maybe we gave things another shot.”

“What about Tamara?” she asked anxiously.

Neal blushed. “Well, I … yeah, I guess that looks kind of bad,” he admitted. “Ems, I always assumed you would never forgive me for what I did, even if I explained why I did it. It sounds terrible but if I thought I had a chance with you again—and damn, Emma, if I’d known about Henry, you know I would have been there in a heartbeat. I never would have wanted him growing up the way we did.”

“I know,” she said, feeling a little unsteady. Neal’s stare was intense, and she wished she could just hide somewhere and not deal with him. Was it possible that he’d broken up with Tamara and tried to make things work with him? It _would_ explain why she was wearing the necklace again. And she would do _anything_ for Henry, wouldn’t she? Henry would have been thrilled at the prospect of bringing his biological parents together; even if she and Neal hadn’t made up right away, she could imagine Henry would have pulled some kind of next-level _Parent Trap_ business to make them consider it.

She wished her video message could have contained some clues or _something._ A reference to Tallahassee would have been enough, and she would have known it was Neal she’d come for.

Or, she realized, her heart sinking, the absence of Tallahasse would have meant something—that Neal wasn’t the guy she was looking for. Had she wanted that?

“Ems?”

“Yeah, sorry, just thinking,” she said distractedly. She needed to find this third guy before she could even begin to figure anything out. “I’ll be back in a bit, Neal. There’s someone else I have to go talk to.”

He nodded. “Okay. Time’s a bit weird here, so don’t worry about rushing. It won’t really take any longer or shorter in terms of how I experience it.”

“Okay.” She reached out to hug him, but changed her mind at the last minute and awkwardly brushed some hair out of her face instead. “See you in a bit.”

As she walked back to her starting point, she watched her video message again, hoping that, against all odds, she might have managed to leave a clue.

* * *

 

Back at the start, there was only one more direction to try: north. She was almost used to the weird passage-and-lack-of-passage of time at this point, but it was still jarring when she finally saw something in front of her. It looked like a dock or pier of some sort, overlooking water. She groaned when she realized who was standing there.

“Wonderful,” Hook said as he glanced back at her, not bothering to disguise his irritation. “Even in death, I shall have to endure your judgmental glares and physical attacks.”

“This is bullshit,” she said in exasperation.

“This is _death,_ darling,” he said, staring back at the horizon. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you here to recount the details of your demise for my entertainment? I should warn you: against all odds, I was actually a bit fond of you, so such details will likely be less entertaining than you might expect.”

“I’m not dead,” she said, stepping up beside him. “What’s bullshit is that I have to decide between three of you, and I kind of want _none_ of you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t talk about this with you,” she said angrily.

“Well, then, love, why _are_ you here? Perhap you would fill me in regarding my own death? I can’t seem to remember, but I do hope I took the crocodile down with me.”

“You didn’t.” That was something she knew for sure; her memories might be riddled with huge gaps, but Rumplestiltskin was definitely alive. “And I don’t remember you dying.”

“But I _am_ deceased.”

“Yeah.”

“And you are not, but you refuse to explain your presence here. Can you not humor me?”

“Fine.” She pulled out her phone and hit play.

“Emma, it’s me—well, it’s you, I guess—whatever, it’s not important. I know you’re not going to believe what Hades is telling you, but maybe you’ll believe yourself. You’re here to find the man you love. Hades isn’t fucking with you. It’s all true. You _have_ to find him. There’s some stupid spell that’ll erase this if I say anything that’ll clue you in to who he is. But you _have_ to find him. You’ll know it’s him. You’ve _got_ to.”

The recording of herself wiped away some tears and then continued. “Find him and bring him home so you can do all the things you wanted to. Like live in that house with the white picket fence, and play board games together with Henry, and have Mom and Dad over for dinner, and babysit your brother and pretend you’re not practicing, and laugh and cry and fight and make love.” Her recorded self broke down in tears. “He shouldn’t have had to die—it’s all my fault! Oh, god, and what if he doesn’t forgive me, what if he can’t love me anymore, I—” And the video cut off.

Emma was grateful that Hook didn’t speak first. “So, yeah,” she said; her voice was hoarse as though she’d just made the recording. “I get one chance at this.”

“And you believe _I’m_ your beau?” he asked, and to his credit, his disbelief wasn’t derisive.

“Hades is giving me three choices,” she explained. “There are three of you, and none of us remembers enough to figure out who it is.”

“Who are the others?”

“Graham and Neal,” she said, but he just shrugged. “You all know you’re dead, but you don’t remember how it happened. And I have so many holes in my memory, too.” She looked up at him to gauge his reaction, but he was staring at her in angry disbelief. “What?”

“How _dare_ you?”

“What?”

He reached out and grabbed the ring that was on the chain around her neck, pulling hard enough on it that she was forced to step closer to him. “Tell me, Swan, did you at least wait until my body was cold before robbing my corpse?”

“This is _yours?”_ She felt like an idiot; Hades _had_ said something about wearing symbols. She’d forgotten about the ring, since she hadn’t known whose it was. “I just sort of found it around my neck. I don’t remember how I got it.”

“There’s no need to remember,” he said angrily. “I can tell you the only way you would have this in your possession would be if you’d removed it from my dead body.”

“Stop it!” She pushed him away, but he didn’t let go, and the chain bit into her neck. “Ow, stop! Let go!”

He released it, but he was still pissed. “Give it back,” he demanded.

“Well, I guess you’re not the person I came here for,” she muttered. So that left Neal or Graham, and suddenly she was pissed at Hades for giving her these three options. “Wait,” she said, staring at the bootlace on her wrist. “If I’d taken this off your body, you’d still have it.”

“How is that bloody possible?”

She pointed at the lace. “This is Graham’s bootlace, but when I saw him here, he still had two bootlaces. You must have given this to me before you died.”

“Why on earth would I have done such a thing?”

“I … don’t know,” she admitted. “But it’s not like you don’t have other rings.” She pointed to his hand.

“That’s not the same. That ring was …”

“Was what?”

“I always believed it was protecting me,” he admitted. “I got quite lucky, surviving long enough to have a chance at destroying my foe. That ring is why.”

“Superstitious much?” she asked, but she was examining the ring.

“I would never have given it to you,” he said emphatically. “I would have needed it to continue on, and live long enough to finally have my revenge.”

“What if you loved me, and you were trying to protect me?” she asked. She couldn’t think of another reason she’d have something this important.

He scoffed. “I love Milah,” he reminded her. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret withholding that ring from her, that she might have lived.”

“Hook, will you stop and think for a second?” She couldn’t hide her frustration. “I came here to find the guy I love—don’t you want to figure out if you’re that guy?”

“I can already tell you I’m not,” he said, turning away from her. “I never would betray Milah’s memory like that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have stolen a ring off you, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to explain why you would have given it to me.”

“Actually, no, I don’t,” he said with finality.

She sighed. This was pointless—why was she even arguing with him? As much as she hated to admit it, Neal was probably the reason she’d come all this way. And yet here she was, arguing with a fairytale pirate and trying to convince him that he must have loved her before he died.

She turned away, trying to remember which direction Neal had been in, east or west, when she noticed something. “You’re wearing modern clothes.”

He was quiet; assuming she wasn’t going to get an answer, she took a step back towards her starting point. But then he spoke. “Aye. I must have spent more time in your realm than I can remember.”

She tentatively stepped back in his direction. “What _do_ you remember?”

“I remember stabbing the crocodile with dreamshade on my hook,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “And then you hit me in the head with something. After that, everything becomes quite vague.”

“Sorry about that.”

“What _did_ you strike me with?”

She chuckled. “I don’t even remember. And I don’t remember anything with you after that.”

“But you remember more time passing.”

“Yeah … we had to save Henry from Pan. Then there was about a year where Henry and I were in New York, and then several more months in Storybrooke, dealing with more villains.”

“More villains like meself,” he said, but his cheeriness was obviously false.

“Not really like you,” she admitted. “You’re … different. Unique.”

“You are aware that you seem to be complimenting me, love?”

“Yep.”

He cleared his throat. “So, Neverland. If you survived, I’d guess I was with you.”

“Why?”

“Who else could have helped guide you? I know the place well enough, and I’ve spent enough time with Pan to know how he operates.”

“Maybe.” She desperately wished she could remember.

“If I remained in Storybrooke, that would explain the attire. Though I do recall you wearing such clothing during your visit to the Enchanted Forest.”

“Not on subsequent visits.”

“Hm? You went back?”

“Uh, yeah. A couple of times, I think. Does Camelot count?”

“Aye, it’s a separate kingdom in the same realm. You were in Camelot?”

“Yeah, for a few weeks.”

“An unusual destination.”

“Well, we were looking for Merlin, so step one was getting to Camelot.”

“Crossing realms is a tall order, as I know you’re aware. What could warrant such extreme measures?”

She braced herself. “Uh, well … I kind of was the Dark One …”

 _That_ got his attention. “Wait, _you_ destroyed Rumplestiltskin?”

“No!” It wasn’t that she cared all that much for Gold, but she didn’t like Hook thinking she’d killed someone. “It’s—well, the Darkness was killing him, so we kind of … pulled it out of him, but it needed a human tether. I sort of volunteered, I guess, to stop it from killing everyone. And then we tried to get it out of me and get rid of it.”

“For your sake, I hope you’re about to tell me you succeeded,” he said darkly. “As you may recall, destroying the Dark One was the sole motivation for my existence for centuries.”

“Well, we got it out of me, I know that. But I don’t remember exactly how. I think that’s how he died.”

“Rumplestiltskin?”

“No, whoever … the guy I love. I think he died getting the Darkness out of me.” The memory was fuzzy around the edges and mostly involved her sobbing in her mother’s arms.

“Emma, I’m sorry.” He sounded genuine. “If anyone should understand the pain of losing true love, it would be me. I shouldn’t be so unkind.”

“It’s okay.” She took a shaky breath. “I guess I should go back. It’s probably Neal—Henry’s father,” she clarified.

“The love you lied about on the beanstalk?” She nodded. “You don’t sound excited.”

“I’m not,” she admitted. “But he’s the most plausible choice. The other guy, I’m pretty sure it’s not him.” She gestured at the bootlace. “This sounds like a weird thing to remember him by if I was just going to turn around and go straight to hell to find him.”

“Perhaps,” Hook agreed. “And you’re sure it’s not me?”

She couldn’t help that her jaw dropped a little. “Hook, you just told me you’d never betray Milah’s memory by falling in love with anyone else. It’s not so much that I’m sure it’s not you as it is that _you_ seem sure it’s not you.”

“Aye,” he admitted. “But I … Emma, I must have given you that ring. I believe that you wouldn’t have pilfered it.”

She lifted up the ring and examined it. “I wouldn’t have,” she agreed. “It’s weird to think of you like that.”

“Like what?”

“In love. With me. Although I guess it’s weird to imagine anyone in love with me.”

He laughed at that. “I hardly find it strange. You abandoned me on that beanstalk, and yet I know I would have jumped at the chance to gain your trust again. I suppose I simply find it difficult to accept that I might have stopped loving Milah.”

“Moved on,” she corrected. “Finding love again doesn’t cancel past love. Not like that, at least.”

“So you can imagine me being in love, and I can imagine someone being in love with you,” he summarized. “Where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I only get one chance. If I pick wrong, I go back alone.”

He nodded. “Those are quite the high stakes, love.”

“Well, I _am_ trying to break all the rules and bring someone back to life,” she said wryly. “I guess it’s only fair.”

He reached for her phone and held it up. “You’re being quite flippant, Swan, but we both know just how serious this matter is to you, and just how unfair you feel this situation is.”

She grabbed the phone back. “Careful, I don’t want to delete that.” He scrunched his face quizzically. “Uh, the recording isn’t permanent,” she tried to explain. “Well, it is but you can get rid of it by pressing a certain button, and I don’t want to do it by accident.”

“I see. That’s quite a useful device.”

“Yeah, if I hadn’t made that video, I don’t know if I’d have believed Hades.”

“What did the other suitors have to say about it?”

“About what?”

“The likeness of you on this device,” he clarified, obviously struggling to describe _video._

“Oh, uh … I didn’t show it to them,” she admitted.

“Not even to your boy’s father?”

“He … I don’t know, it didn’t really occur to me.” Why _had_ she shown it to Hook?

 _You’ll know it’s him_ , she’d said in the recording.

Graham was sweet and serious and kind, and she could have eventually (maybe) forgiven the whole _he slept with Regina_ thing. But she could just … tell that he’d been dead for a while. And Neal would maybe be convenient, but she wasn’t convinced that they could have ever recaptured Tallahassee, at least not to the point where she would have literally gone to hell and back for him.

But _Hook?_ Could she have fallen in love with _Hook?_

She could tell he was struggling with the same thoughts. “I would have had to give up my revenge,” he said, clearly trying to reason with himself. “I would have had to move on from Milah. I don’t know if I’d be capable of that.”

“I know what you mean. I never thought I’d move on either. But I guess I have proof that I did.” She held up the phone.

“Aye.” He reached out for the ring again, although this time, he just sort of let it sit in the palm of his hand as he stared at it. “And you’ve proof that I did as well.”

He was a pirate. He’d left them in that cell in the Enchanted Forest. He’d tried to keep her and Mary Margaret from getting back to Storybrooke. He’d shot Belle. He’d stabbed Gold.

And yet, it felt like she’d been talking to him for ages, longer than she had with Graham or Neal. She’d shown him the video. She’d told him the truth about why she was here in the first place. She’d even tried to argue with him when he’d insisted that he couldn’t be the man she was looking for.

_You’ll know it’s him._

She surged forward and kissed him.

Her memories shifted back into place like she was waking up from a dream; Killian’s must have returned as well because he was suddenly almost crushing her in his arms and kissing her back like _crazy._

And then it really hit her—she was in his arms again, it had _worked_ , she’d found him—and she had to break the kiss because she couldn’t stop sobbing in relief.

He pressed her to him and stroked her hair. “I’m here, love. I’m here. You found me.”

She laughed a little wildly, and couldn’t help but follow her parents’ script. “Did you ever doubt I would?”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! I'd love to know what you think.


End file.
